Bacchanalia
by Whackadoo
Summary: Jensen reigning as Bacchus LI for Mardi Gras inspired me to write Bacchus into a story, so here you go.


**AN: This takes place shortly after Hammer of The Gods. Lucifer just killed a bunch of pagan gods, Crowley recently met the guys for the first time, offering them The Colt to kill Lucifer (which failed). **

"Hey Dean! Check it out!"

They were on the hunt for anything they could find on the horsemen and their rings. Bobby was checking what he had at his place and Dean and Sam were sent out to check a couple of storage units. Dean turned around from the box he had been digging through to find that Sam had put on a crown of sorts. It was made of a couple thin metal bands with what looked like ivy wrapped around it. "Sam, what the hell?"

"Cool, huh?"

Dean looked at his brother like he'd grown a second head. "Bro, I would expect something like this from me, not you. We're supposed to be looking for info on the rings! Haven't we learned not to touch shit we find laying around storage lockers?"

"Don't be jealous, peasant." Sam said with a snicker. Dean shook his head with a smirk and turned back to what he'd been doing.

Two hours later, they had gone through the entire unit and come up empty. "Nothing here." Sam reported as he put his last box back up on the shelf he'd gotten it from.

"Same here. Guess we head back to Bobby's place." Dean kicked his box under the table he'd gotten it from and turned to Sam, pulling the keys to the storage unit out of his pocket. "Sam. Dude, take off the crown and let's go."

"Oh!" Sam chuckled. "I forgot I had this on." He reached up to take it off and it wouldn't budge. "Man, I don't remember it being so tight." He kept tugging at it with no luck.

"Geez. Come here." Dean motioned with his hands for his brother to come over. "Bend over, ya sasquatch!" Sam bent at the waist toward his brother and Dean grabbed hold of the crown as best he could. No luck. "Damn, it's on there good!" Dean lifted a foot and propped it against his brother's shoulder for added leverage. Still no luck. He pulled harder.

"Agh! Stop! Stop! You're going to remove my head, you keep it up!" Sam yelled.

"Damn it, Sammy! I guess you wear it back to Bobby's place and we'll grease you up." Dean said disgustedly.

All the way back to Bobby's, Sam kept throwing sideways glances at Dean and snickering. Finally Dean couldn't take it anymore. "What?"

"Nothing." Sam giggled.

"It's not nothing. You're driving me crazy. What?!"

"It's just, well, it's like you're my faithful servant driving the King to his castle."

Dean groaned and rolled his eyes. "I am no such thing! Man, we can't get that thing off you quick enough!"

"Home, James!" Sam called out.

"I swear to god, I will stop the car! You wanna walk, your majesty? Because it's a good twenty more miles!"

"Sorry. I'll try to be quiet." Sam hid another chuckle.

"You do that!" Dean turned up the radio and put a little more pressure on the gas.

At the house, Dean led Sam straight into the kitchen. "Dunk your head in the sink and get it wet. Bobby! We could use your help!" He called out to the house in general .

"Keep your pants on, boy!" Bobby called from the basement.

Dean oversaw Sam and when he felt his hair was wet enough, he squirted dish soap all around the crown. "Keep your eyes closed. I can't guarantee this won't get in 'em." Dean swirled the soap all over and around the crown, the metal, the ivy, all of it.

Bobby walked up as he was working. "What's all this?" he asked.

"Sam found this stupid crown in your lockup and just couldn't resist trying it on. Now the damn thing won't come off." Dean set the dish soap bottle down and rinsed his fingers. "Okay Sam, ya ready?"

"Any time now. I'm getting light headed bent over like this."

Dean hooked what fingernails he had on the edge of the metal band and pulled for all he was worth but the thing wouldn't move.

"Here, you get on that side and I'll give it a go from this side." Bobby offered. They each took a side but couldn't get it to come off.

"Damn Sammy! Why'd ya have to go and mess with this thing?"

"I'm kind of surprised it's Sam in this pickle and not you, Dean." Bobby said with a chuckle.

"Well let's just hope it's not a cursed object." Dean admonished . "Whose crown is it?" He asked Bobby.

"Well how in the hell should I know?"

"Guys? Guys! Can I rinse this off?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. Yeah." Dean answered and then turning back to Bobby, "Because it was in your storage unit!"

Bobby made a face. "I know every object in those units and trust me, there ain't no crowns."

Dean made a perturbed face and held out his hands toward Sam, who was busy rinsing the soap out in the sink.

"Fine! I keep records! We'll check 'em." Bobby headed into his library and Dean followed. He opened a roll top desk to the side and pulled out two thin leather bound ledgers . "Which unit were you at?"

"The one over on Destry." Dean dropped into the chair opposite Bobby's main desk and Sam joined them, rubbing a towel over his head.

Bobby put one of the books back and sat at his desk with the other. He went through it page by page, running his finger slowly down the list. When he got to the end, he slapped the book shut. "No crown."

"C'mon man, crowns don't just appear out of thin air!" Dean groused.

"Actually, in our experience, do you really want to say that, Dean?" Sam questioned.

Dean sighed. "Okay, then... Who's crown is it? Still the main question." Nobody had an answer.

"Ya feel anything weird?" Bobby asked. Sam just shook his head no. "I guess, for now, you boys stay here and we keep an eye on Sam. In the meantime, we hit the books." This elicited another sigh from Dean. After several hours of digging, they came up empty. "There are so many pagan gods and minor deities that have worn or could wear a crown, it's hard to say. You two piss anyone off recently?" Bobby asked.

The boys exchanged worried glances. "All right. Out with it."

"Ummm." Dean hesitated. Bobby raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest, in no mood to wait.

"We may have been present when several pagan gods were murdered by Lucifer." Sam blurted out.

"What?!"

"But it wasn't our fault!" Dean was quick to add.

"Mmhmm." Bobby shook his head. "Well, the good news is maybe this will narrow down our search. Which group of gods were killed?"

"Well, Odin was there." Dean said.

"So the Norse gods. That narrows it down quite a bit. Not many of them wear crowns." Bobby said reaching for a book on his desk.

"Yeah but... " Dean started.

"Yeah but what?" Bobby stopped mid-reach for the book.

"There was also an elephant god dude from China." Dean said.

"Oh and that other one. Was he from Africa?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded. "And Kali, but I think she may have survived." Dean said.

"Oh and Mercury, the shady bellman." Sam added.

Bobby threw his hands up in surrender. "Gotta hand it to you boys, you've managed to piss off most of them." He sighed. "Back to square one. Sam? You let us know as soon as anything strange happens. " Sam nodded and the guys headed to bed, Sam to the guest room and Dean on the couch. The couch was close to the door and he just didn't trust Sam to not lose his marbles in the middle of the night and make a break for it.

Sam slept late the next day, which worried both Bobby and Dean. "Should I go wake him up?" Dean asked.

"No need. You have been blessed with my presence." Sam announced as he entered the kitchen. He was met with odd stares. "You two all right?"

"Are those...?" Dean and Bobby walked over to Sam, still staring.

Bobby reached up. "Grapes. Now we're talking." He turned and went to his desk and the stack of books still sitting there.

Sam reached up a tentative hand and went to the closest mirror. "The crown grew grapes?"

"Sammy, I don't think the crown grew grapes, but the ivy or whatever that's wrapped around it." Dean said.

"Duh Dean! What the hell?" Sam stood amazed at the sight in the mirror. The ivy that was woven throughout the crown seemed to have become more lush overnight, with small bunches of grapes hanging off it.

"Ok, primarily we have Dionysus of Greek mythology or Bacchus, basically the same guy from the Roman side. There are several lesser gods known for harvest and beer as well. It's the first two we really need to worry about though." Bobby said, digging into his books once again.

"Why's that, Bobby?" Sam asked, both boys joining him at his desk.

"Dionysus, or Bacchus, whatever, people tend think of them as party gods. Drunkenness is a common sign of their followers. But actually, there were often drunken orgies that-"

"Doesn't sound so bad." Dean cut in.

"That were often violent and extreme." Bobby finished. "Followers so inebriated they wouldn't remember what happened, or their part in it, the next day." Bobby gave Dean the stink eye and Dean held up his hands in surrender .

"Okay, maybe sounding not as good. I'd like to remember any orgies I take part in, thank you very much." Sam rolled his eyes.

"I'm going to keep reading about these fellas, why don't you two start reading up on the other gods." The boys mumbled their ascent, each grabbed a book, and settled in for a long boring afternoon.

After a while Dean got up and stretched. "Gonna grab a beer. You want anything, Bobby?"

"Sure. I'll take one."

Dean nodded and headed to the kitchen, where Sam had books spread across the table. "Hey Sam, you want a... Is that wine?" There on the table before his brother was an open bottle and a glass of wine.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Why? Why?! Earth to Sam! You might be being possessed by a pagan god of wine and you don't see anything wrong with you drinking wine?!"

"I've had wine before, Dean. I get tired of beer all the time. It's so... Peasant."

"Peasant? Peasant. Bobby? Sam's drinking wine because beer is so peasant! And wine is what? Better somehow? And when's the last time you had wine anyhow?"

"Wine is a drink fit for kings."

Dean just stared at his brother as if the words coming out of his mouth weren't even English. He turned to Bobby in the other room. "Yeah, I'm thinking we can narrow it down to the gods of wine." Dean grabbed the beers and went back to hand one to Bobby. "You think he'll become dangerous?" He asked in a hushed tone. "I mean, him drinking wine all the time couldn't be too bad, right?"

Bobby took the beer and cracked it open. "I don't know, Dean. Some of these gods were the benevolent types. This one in Africa for instance, taught the people brewing techniques and how to make beer. Doesn't seem so bad. But, if this is Bacchus, say, and he's pissed that Mercury is dead? We could have a problem. Look here." He turned the book he'd been reading around so Dean could see the crude drawing. "At Bacchanalia and other meetings of his followers, they would get so drunk and crazed, they would often tear a living animal apart and eat it's flesh raw. They believed the power of Bacchus would enter them as they ate it. This wasn't your typical festival. People would come away from Bacchanalia with no memory of injuries they had sustained, where the blood on their hands came from, or who may have gotten pregnant and by whom. More often than not, at least one person would be dead by sunrise. "

"Great. Just great. How do we stop this?"

"We gotta figure out for sure which deity the crown belongs to first. Then we can find our answers."

Dean sighed, took another swig of beer, and sat back down to the books.

"Bobby?" Dean said a while later.

"Huh? You find something?"

"Maybe? Have you been drinking your beer?"

"Yeah, I suppose. What does that have to do with anything?"

"How much you have left?" Bobby frowned at him. "Just humor me." Dean said.

Bobby picked up his beer and swirled it around and frowned again. "It feels almost full."

"Yeah. Mine too. Bobby I've been drinking this same bottle of beer for over two hours now. I should easily be on my third by now. And it's still cold!"

They both looked at each other, the proverbial light bulb going on above their heads at the same time. "Sam!" They said in unison. They got up and went to the kitchen. Sam wasn't there but there were at least ten bottles of wine on the floor by the table.

"Sam?" Dean yelled out.

"I'll check upstairs. Maybe it's just a bathroom break." Bobby said and took to the stairs.

"Yeah, wishful thinking." Dean mumbled. He checked the back room, came up empty and headed for the basement. "Sam?" he called down the stairs.

"There is no one by that name here." The voice that came up from the basement was Sam's but, at the same time, not.

Dean slowly descended the stairs. "Sammy?" When he got to the bottom he found Sam sitting on a tall stool, surrounded by barrels of various sizes. "Is this all wine?"

"Who is Sam?"

Dean looked at him weird. "You're Sam. Or at least, you were before whoever you are jumped him."

Sam studied his fingers and hands, apparently ignoring anything Dean was saying. "You are an insolent one aren't you? You should kneel before your god."

"Pft! Kneel? I don't know who you are, but you're not my god, pal, and I don't kneel for anyone."

"I'm not your god? You have your hands either wrapped around a bottle, or around a woman, often enough to be my High Priest!" Sam laughed a deep belly laugh that was so not Sam. It was damn creepy. Standing up, he pointed to the floor and said, "Kneel before Bacchus, your god!"

Dean grimaced as he dropped to his knees, unable to resist. The dude had some serious mojo. "What do you want with my brother?"

"Lower." Not-Sam said. Dean could feel a tingling in his spine and, as much as he tried not to, he bent at the waist until his forehead touched the floor. "I was actually hoping it'd be you who put my crown on. I think you would have enjoyed the ride. But this is so much better. Your brother... Sam, was it? He's not enjoying it so much and that's just delightful! Let's have a drink to my good fortune!"

Dean felt himself moving at some unseen command and he growled under his breath. He walked over to one of the barrels that had a spout on it and took up the wine glass that was sitting on top of it. The glass hadn't been there before. How would they defeat a being that seemed to be all powerful? Dean filled the glass and took it to Bacchus. "What do you want?"

"Aaah Dean. That's a good question. Originally I wanted to make you pay for the death of Mercury."

"We had nothing to do with that."

"You should have a drink too. You're so uptight. I can feel you fighting me."

Again Dean went to the barrel, poured out a glass, and started drinking. He really wasn't a wine drinker, but this stuff wasn't half bad.

"Better?" Bacchus asked. "Now then, what I want. You have me torn. At first I thought to possess you and kill your brother, but now I have Sam and I'm thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. I wonder how he'd react to an orgy?"

Dean's hand shook with the effort he was putting in to fighting off Bacchus' control, but never the less, he continued to drink.

"So now, do I kill you instead? Although... it has been enjoyable watching you fight me. I find your feeble attempts amusing. Maybe I should keep you as my servant. I'm truly torn."

"Dean? Dean! Where are you, boy?" Bobby's voice could be heard from upstairs.

"You better go. Take a barrel to share with your friend. I have much to think about. I shall celebrate Bacchanalia tomorrow and I'll decide by then what your fate shall be."

Dean found himself hefting one of the larger barrels up onto his shoulder and taking it upstairs. When Bobby saw him, he frowned in confusion. "Let's drink this out in the fresh air of the evening." Dean said too loudly and Bobby continued to gawk at him.

They went outside and Dean set the barrel down in the bed of a defunct pickup truck where two glasses magically appeared. As Dean poured them each a glass, he spoke quickly and quietly. "It's Bacchus. He's controlling my actions but apparently that doesn't extend to talking." They both started drinking the wine as soon as it was poured. Bobby made a face as he experienced the effects of Bacchus' control. "You need to get away from here and figure out a way to defeat him. He's controlling me with very little effort on his part, making wine and beer replicate at will. You should see how many barrels of wine he has in your basement already!" Dean refilled their already empty glasses, unable to stop.

"What's he plannin'?" Bobby asked.

Dean shook his head. "He's got some messed up thought that it's our fault Mercury is dead. He doesn't know whether he wants to kill me or make me a friggin slave and I don't think he has any intentions on giving up Sammy." Bobby sighed, already feeling the weight of the situation. "Listen Bobby. He intends on celebrating Bacchanalia tomorrow night and if he keeps us drinking like this, we'll be so far gone by then, there won't be any way we can stop him. You need to get far away from here, figure out a solution, and hopefully put it in action before Sammy and I become a lost cause."

Dean refilled the glasses once again and said overly loud, "Bobby, you should see how much of this stuff he's got down there!" Dean slurred some words, hoping to sound like he was already getting sloshed. "You should go get your buddies from town and have them join us! Oh! And get Maddie and her sister Gale too! He's gonna throw a party!"

"That's a great idea!" Bobby walked over to his car without anything holding him back. "Be back in a bit! Don't go drinking all that yourself! You save me some."

For some reason Bacchus let Bobby go. Maybe it was because his beef was with Dean and Sam. Who knows, but Dean would take whatever small miracles he could get. Dean fought for control with no success. He needed to keep his head in the game as much as possible. He was already beginning to feel a bit tipsy which was surprising considering how well he could normally hold his liquor. This wine was powerful stuff.

"Dean! Come serve your god!"

"Aw shit. Here we go." he mumbled to himself as he picked up the barrel, which was just as heavy after all the wine he and Bobby had already drank, and headed back inside. "What do you want now?" Dean bellowed. If his mouth was still free, he would take advantage of it.

Sam, or rather Bacchus, was standing in the library looking around. All the furniture was gone. Bobby's bookshelves, desks, couch, chairs, all of it gone. The room was almost bare and looked twice the size. In the corners were stacked barrels of wine with grape vines winding in and around them. "I need a throne for the festivities."

Dean set the barrel down and looked around. "There's a bathroom down the hall." Bacchus/Sam continued to stare, not amused. "So? Zap one in. You seem to be doing fine with everything else."

"Yes. Yes. Well enough." A large ornate throne appeared along the back wall. It was up on a pedestal and when Bacchus went to sit in it, his head almost grazed the ceiling. A goblet appeared at his left hand and he helped himself to it's contents. "I need something to put my feet up on." He looked at Dean and Dean smirked back.

"Don't look at me. I'm not your bitch." Dean snarked and regretted his words almost before they left his mouth because he found himself walking up onto the podium. He dropped to all fours in front of Bacchus who put his giant Sam-sized feet up on Dean's back.

"Aaaah. Better. You seem to be fighting me still. I don't understand why. You love to drink, you love women. You are one of the most free humans I've come across in a long time. You don't need to lower many inhibitions, because you have so few. You say what you want, eat and drink what you want, and for the most part, live like you want. This is what I'm all about! Why fight it?"

"Bullshit. I fight because you're a controlling bastard and that's a loss of the freedom you're spouting on about. What I want, is for you to leave my brother and clear the hell out!"

"Hmmm. You're making this difficult. I think the amusement of you as a slave would wear thin sooner rather than later." Bacchus/Sam stood and started pacing the room, leaving Dean on his hands and knees. "My worshipers **will** need sacrificial flesh..."

"What worshipers?"

"They will come. Have faith. I have decided." Bacchus turned to the center of the room and viewed it with a critical eye. "Hmmm. No." Turning back toward the side of the room, he smiled. Two stone pillars, about three feet tall, appeared on the floor, about seven or eight feet apart. "Why don't you go kneel between those." Bacchus suggested. Of course Dean complied, walking over, turning back to face the room, he knelt down, sitting on his heels. "Raise out your arms." Dean did and chains appeared out of nowhere, attaching to his wrists and pulling his arms out wide to attach at the other ends to the tops of the pillars. "Nice."

"What the hell, dude?"

"Just setting up for the festivities." He faced the entryway and waved his arm. There was a flash of blue light across it that quickly faded away. "First, they will don appropriate attire upon entrance." Dean frowned, confused.

Bacchus turned back to his throne and a large basket appeared at the foot of it and beside it, a long oval brass bowl." Then, my worshipers will offer me their gifts. Money, precious metals and stones." He waved his hand toward the basket.

"What use would you have for any of that?" Dean wondered.

"None. It's not what they give but the act of giving up something they value in honor of their god." He waved a hand and a pedestal table appeared just behind the brass bowl. On it were about ten or so brass goblets, each filled to the brim with wine. "Then they will take up a ceremonial glass of wine, pour some out into the bowl and then serve the rest to you. This they'll do as a thank offering for all my gifts to them." Bacchus looked critically at Dean for a moment. "You, of course will enjoy every drop you are given. Desire it, in fact." Dean's mouth and throat went strangely dry and he felt like he could kill for a drink of anything. He really hoped Bobby was somewhere getting answers.

Bacchus turned in a circle, arms up-raised. Suddenly the room was festooned with colorful swaths of fabric and ivy, piles of cushions, and scattered tall tables with glasses of wine. Music lightly filled the air and Dean couldn't quite figure out where it was coming from. "They will then gorge themselves on wine, lower their inhibitions, and become free! The evening will culminate with a meal of sacrificial flesh! We'll be serving Hunter Tartare!"

"Hunter tar...? Oh shit." Dean pulled at the chains but they were holding strong. This guy was crazy!

Bacchus turned back to Dean with a sadistic smile on his face. Sadistic really didn't look good on Sammy. "Bacchanalia starts soon! Let us dress for the occasion." He waved his arms down in front of himself and Sam's jeans and flannel were replaced with a deep purple tunic with a gleaming white toga, trimmed in gold. "Ahh, so much better, more free. And as for you..."

Dean looked down as his clothes were replaced with a small bundle of deep purple cloth around his intimates. "What the hell is this?"

"It's called a loin cloth, you peasant. Underwear in your vernacular. A shade of royal purple to distinguish you as our sacrificial guest."

Bacchus walked back over and sat in his throne, taking up his goblet of wine once again, and motioning toward the doorway. "The first guests approach! Let the festivities begin!"

Dean turned his head to see two people on the other side of the doorway, looking hesitant to enter. One was a thin, gawky looking guy who looked the perfect picture of a computer nerd. With him was your average looking soccer mom type. The nerd waved his arm out, allowing the woman to go before him. As she entered through the doorway, her yoga pants and t-shirt were replaced with a light yellow toga. The nerd followed, getting a toga in the shade of the blue screen of death. Dean thought it amusingly fitting.

They approached the throne and Bacchus smiled down at them. The woman went first, taking off her wedding band and diamond ring, and dropping them into the basket with a wad of cash, bowing low as she did so. "Welcome my child." Bacchus said with a benevolent smile. He waved his hand toward the small table and she took one of the goblets there. She poured a small amount of it into the bowl with a whispered thank you and then made her way toward Dean. She gave him an embarrassed smile and then tipped the goblet up to his lips. He greedily drank the wine as fast as he could, some of it spilling down his neck and chest. Once the goblet was empty, she set it down on the floor in front of him, where it vanished, and went to one of the many tables around the room and got a glass of wine for herself.

The nerd followed suit, dropping a cell phone, an iPad, and a couple credit cards into the basket. He took the goblet, poured out his offering and then came over to Dean. He looked at Dean like a deer sensing a predator. His hands shook with fear as he served his wine to Dean, spilling at least half of it down Dean's front. He sighed with relief as he set the goblet down and hurried off to find himself his own drink.

Who were these people? Dean didn't recognize either of them. As he wondered about it, more and more came in. How did they know to come here? Were these people truly followers of Bacchus or were they poor innocent schleps that heard some sort of call and came in much the same way as Dean had. Unwillingly.

After a while, Dean noticed that the inhibitions were definitely being lowered the more people drank. Dean, himself, felt like he had about three gallons of wine running through his veins at this point. People milled about chatting, laughing, dancing. Some were sprawled on the cushions looking seductively at the others.

The nerd boldly approached him at this point and eyed him up. Dean gave him a drunken smile, definitely feeling a buzz. Nerd boy held out his wine glass. "Want some more?" Dean nodded his head enthusiastically, unable to say no. "Well, it'll cost you." Dean frowned in confusion. The nerd suddenly grabbed a fistful of Dean's hair, pulled his head back, bent down and gave him a passionate kiss full on the mouth. Before Dean could sputter a what the hell, he was being served wine from the nerd's glass. He poured it fast, spilling as much of it on Dean as was being drunk. He laughed, turned to the room with his glass raised high in the air, and shouted "Hail Bacchus!" The crowd returned his cry with a lustful chorus of their own.

_I don't know where you are, Bobby,_ Dean thought to himself, _but I hope you get this shit sewed up soon. This party just took a turn into the fast lane._

"Ah hah! Got it!" Bobby exclaimed.

"You found something?" Diesel came over to look over Bobby's shoulder. Diesel was about eighty years old and full of piss and vinegar. He got pulled into hunting when he was too old to do anything about it, so he took it upon himself to gather books and supplies to help out those who were able.

"Listen to this. It says here that a god's power is drawn from his worshipers. Without worshipers, they fade away. So we need to think of a way to make Bacchus' worshipers abandon him."

"Well, the old fart is all about wine and women, eh? Take away them and I don't see people sticking around for long. I mean, what's a party without the booze? A meeting! And meetings are boring as hell!" Diesel laughed at his own humor and clapped Bobby on the back.

"You might just have something, there, Diesel. I think I have an idea, but I'm going to need a few things."

"Well you'd be in the right place for things, young man! Come on back to the shed and let's see what I can do ya for!"

Dean's head was fuzzy. So much wine. He was drenched in the stuff, inside and out. The crowd was getting much more... enthusiastic. A woman, who was easily in her sixties, came over to give him some more of her wine. She had one breast hanging out of her toga and she didn't seem to notice or care. She knelt before him pouring wine into his mouth. When some spilled on him, she giggled, leaned in and licked it off his chest. If Dean's head hadn't been spinning with wine, he may have been grossed out. Where the hell was Bobby?

Later, a large dude came over to him who looked like his every day outfit may have been biker leathers. He was covered in ink, some of which Dean openly admired. He gave Dean more wine and then poured a ton of it over his head. He reached out and ruffled Dean's hair, making sure it was thoroughly soaked with wine. "I like a well marinated steak!" he bellowed with a laugh. "Isn't this great? I haven't had to take a piss the whole time I've been here!" He poured more wine over Dean's head and in his mouth, laughed and walked away. Dean had to agree on that score. He hasn't had to go to the bathroom either and he's had probably a keg's worth already.

He shook his head, trying to get most of the wine out of his hair instead of it dripping down his face, when he noticed that a quiet hush had fallen over the room. He looked up and saw Crowley walking in. He had a black tunic covered with a blood red toga. On his head was a crown that looked almost like obsidian. Whatever it was, it was black and shiny. The crowd parted to let him through. What the hell was he doing here? _Probably just came by to enjoy the demise of the Winchesters,_ he thought.

"My Lord, Bacchus." He said with a deep bow.

"Aahh. Even royalty has come to honor me!" Bacchus/Sam said in that weird not-Sam voice of his.

Crowley removed his crown and placed it in the basket. "I recognize power when I see it." Crowley said. Bacchus nodded at him with a huge smile and waved his hand toward the pedestal with the ceremonial goblets. Crowley took one, poured some out into the bowl and bowed again. "Thank you." He turned and headed for Dean. When he got there he served the wine to him as was expected, not spilling a drop. Dean, as much as he hated it, drank every drop with relish. "Hello Dean. Nice diaper."

Dean ground his teeth. "It's a loin cloth."

"Sure whatever."

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to save your not so flannel covered ass." He looked down at Dean and grinned. "Oh this is rich."

"Yeah? Why don't you just shut it!" Dean looked around and then back up at Crowley. "Why are you helping us anyway?"

"Your friend Bobby and I made a little deal."

"What? You better not have -"

"Relax, diaper boy. Not that type of deal." Crowley looked down at him and grinned. "This is an image I'll hold in my mind for a very long time."

"I hate you."

"Now, now. Is that any way to speak to your savior?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatever you're going to do, could you just do it already?" Dean growled at him.

"Patience, lad. Patience." Crowley went to a table and got himself a glass of wine and came back and stood nearby. He took a sip or two and then surreptitiously stuck a finger in it.

Dean had no idea what the hell he was up to but didn't have time to think about it as a nearly naked woman came up to him. Her inhibitions had clearly dropped away as had her toga. She stood before him in just a loin cloth of her own. She knelt before him and gave him more wine. When some spilled, she lapped it up off his chest, being quite leisurely about it. She then reached down and grabbed him through his loin cloth, making him jump a bit.

"Ho! Ok... Ah... Okay there." He said with a nervous chuckle.

Her hand slowly ran from there up his abdomen and chest and out one of his arms and back. She squeezed his shoulder and leaned in to his ear, her breasts grazing his chest as she did so. "I can feel his power coursing through you." Her lips brushed his ear as she spoke and she grabbed him again. "I can't wait to have a taste." She gave him more wine and then kissed him with plenty of tongue.

As she walked away, Dean couldn't help but watch the view. His eyes eventually strayed from her ass to the show in the far corner. A guy was banging some chick right up against the wall in full view of everyone and another chick was in there fondling the first one's tits. Then some other dude walks up and takes the second woman from behind. Dean's eyebrows shot up and he grinned. It was like PornHub in 3-D! While he had been distracted with Crowley, it appeared the orgy portion of the program had begun.

Dean's excitement dulled considerably when he realized that Hunter Tartare would be served once the orgy was over. "Crowley? Any time now, man." He looked up at the demon to see his eyes were closed, his finger still in the wine glass. Maybe he was doing something, or maybe building up to doing something?

Nerd boy came back over and offered more wine to Dean but as he was drinking, the glass went empty. A small part of him, probably the part under Bacchus' control, felt disappointed. The nerd pulled the cup away and frowned at it. "What the heck?" He wandered over to one of the tables in search of more.

Dean looked around the room. The stacks of barrels were gone and he noticed more and more people with empty glasses. He looked over at Bacchus to see that he had also noticed.

"What's going on here?!" Bacchus roared. That put a quick stop to the orgy in the corner. Others cowered and ducked down. Bacchus stood and snapped his fingers and a pile of wine barrels appeared in the center of the room. Just as quickly, they vanished. This happened a few more times and Bacchus roared in anger. Several people near the back of the room ran out in terror.

"This party is starting to suck!" Someone yelled out. There was an exodus of about ten more people leaving.

"Who's doing this?!" Bacchus raged.

Crowley stepped forward. "That would be me."

Bacchus/Sam looked at him in confusion. "You? How?!"

"Let's just say you're not the only show in town."

Bacchus was fuming. "Kneel before me!" He pointed to the floor at his feet but Crowley didn't move.

"This isn't really my type of party. Have you ever tried scotch?"

"Kneel before your god!?" Bacchus screamed.

"Yes. You see... There's really only one God around here and to be honest? I don't kneel before him either."

Bacchus stared hard at Crowley. "Who are you? ... What are you?"

"Name's Crowley. King of Hell, at your service." Crowley gave a dramatic bow. At that announcement, several more people slipped out. "Here's the thing you don't understand. You need to see the big picture. Lucifer has risen. Lucifer is the one that killed your little friend. Double crossed him, in fact. This world is headed toward Armageddon. That's with a capital A, my friend. Lucifer will burn this world to the ground. No more wine. No more orgys. No more bloody worshipers!"

Crowley took a deep breath. "Dean here," he patted Dean on the head like a young child. "he's the key to stopping it all. I don't know how yet, but he is. So I'm going to need everyone here to just go on home and sleep this off." He raised his arms out and circled around, catching the eyes of everyone left. Nobody moved. "Now!" he shouted. That did the trick. The place cleared out in a heartbeat.

Bacchus stammered for a moment, looked around at the empty room in stunned silence. He walked over to Dean and lifted his face by his chin. "You would have made the perfect vessel for me." Then he vanished. Or, at least, Sam seemed to shrink in size. He was no longer larger than life. The crown slipped from his head and bounced and rolled across the floor.

In the blink of an eye, everything changed back. The decorations vanished, the room shrank back to its normal size, the furniture returned. Dean dropped in a heap to the floor, his shoulders aching.

"Dean?" Sam rushed over and helped his brother up onto the couch.

Dean noticed his brother was back in his flannel and he looked down at himself in premature relief. "Oh what the hell?!"

"Dean, what are you wearing?" Sam was smart enough to hold in his laughter.

"I believe it's called a loin cloth." a voice said.

Both boy's heads snapped up to see Crowley standing there in his dapper black suit, helping himself to some of Bobby's scotch.

Dean grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around himself. "Okay. What just happened?"

"Let me explain it for the children in the room. Pagan gods exist because of followers. With no followers, they fade away. Bobby and I made a deal. I saved you two morons from Bacchus and I get to reap the harvest after."

Sam looked confused. "What harvest?"

"Although Bacchus could make all that wine appear out of thin air, I, sad to say, can't make it disappear into thin air."

"So where did it go?" Dean asked.

"Simple. I just popped it over to the nearest state university." When the boys gave him more confused looks, he went on. "Do you know how many deals are made by drunk college students?"

"What?! Crowley, you can't-" Sam started.

"Oh but I can and I have. What kind of gratitude is that for saving your bloody asses? Be thankful I don't make you owe me one." Crowley popped out, leaving them staring at each other.

"So..." Sam said after a weighty pause. "You going to tell me about the loin cloth or... " Sam started with a grin.

"No! And this never happened! You didn't see anything!" Dean stormed off to the bathroom and Sam dropped to the couch.

Bobby burst into the house calling for the boys. "Sam? Dean? Everything okay?"

"In here, Bobby!"

Bobby came into the library and stared at Sam. "Is that really you, boy?"

Sam smiled. "Yeah, it's me."

Bobby gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Where's Dean?"

"Who? You mean Captain Underpants? He's in the bathroom."

Dean's voice bellowed from down the hall, "It's a loin cloth, damn it!"


End file.
